


Green Iron

by Momma



Series: FILLS n REQUESTS [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - Fandom
Genre: M/M, NSFW, Smut, Vignettes, lusty lust lust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 9,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma/pseuds/Momma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At times, it would seem that Mr. Potter has the indescribable urge to reach out and strangle Mr. Stark. Others, he is more inclined to ignore him. It's when he is too far gone in his anger that the ... interesting reactions come to light. Of course, kissing the man was just to shut him up.</p><p>Mr. Potter never did see the smirk Mr. Stark wore when this happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a vignette series. Possibly only 100 words, but no more than 500 at any one time. Ideas, however, are welcome.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: Okay, I'll try to keep it under 1000. -___- My best efforts, laid to waste since I just saw the counter on some of my chapters. FML

The first time they met wasn't in a bar or in the lobby of some upscale hotel. It was actually quite silly, truth be told. 

Tony Stark had just been doused by an angry woman. No on purpose, as she was aiming at her dear and possibly ex-boyfriend, but her aim was just that bad. For once, Tony had been an innocent by stander just wanting a Latte Double Espresso with more than half of it chocolate syrup and candy caramel topping. Had wanted. he was currently sticky with something that smelled creamy and he knew that it was going to curdle in this blistering summer heat and leave him smelling absolutely _vile_. 

The owner of the place was soon brought to the front, hair tied in a french braid and thin-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. The woman was banned along with her beau, the floor cleaned to a nice polish, and Tony given clothes of soft and well worn cotton until he was clean and his clothing laundered by the proprietor. If he hadn't been so shocked by being innocent for once, he might have objected to being nearly stripped and forced to shower. 

Only as he was leaving did he notice that the man had nice eyes. 

Green.


	2. Second Meeting

The second time they met, it _was_ in a hotel lobby. Not really cliche, but noteworthy all the same. 

Harry was there to assess his assets with the board on the top floor and check with the workers. He did this often, checking on his many holdings in the Mundane world. Gringotts had not been happy that he voluntarily put himself "at risk", but goblins could only relate to humans so much. The fact that Harry looked nothing like a billionaire in his slacks and handsome cotton button down made him more approachable and comfortable for others to relate to. Only his shoes (Armani) and his watch (Gringotts) were seen to show for his wealth. That was what caught Stark's eye, he supposed as he rode the elevator with the mildly off-putting man. Or, perhaps very annoying but after Ron, not many people could just push his buttons. Usually. 

"Nice shoes. Armani, right?" 

Harry snorted. As if the man didn't know since he was wearing a pair almost exactly like his own, only black instead of Harry's gray. 

The pestering didn't quite stop, the man psychoanalyzing him the rest of the way and cheerfully being a git about it. At his floor, Harry politely waved the man out of the elevator as he slid the key card in. The astonished look on Stark's face as the doors slid closed was more than enough to bolster him up during the meeting.


	3. The Third Meeting Doth Not Make Acquaintances

This one was in a bar. The meeting, that is. 

London, while large to any outsider, was a small world owned by few. Stark knew this even as he did not own anything here in London specifically. It was his business to know these things. Literally. So to find the man with the braided hair and green eyes stepping from the backroom, clipboard in hand and clothed soft cotton slacks and a rolled up button down in almost immaculate condition once again, he was not as surprised as he probably should have been. 

"Hey, HARRY!" 

The man looked up, brow raising in silent query. Tony smirked. 

"I found out what your name was after the shoe thing. Thought it might be good to know." 

The man stared at him, other brow joining the other. Sighing in recognition and resignation, he strolled over, checking his clipboard before sitting down. Tony sneaked a peek and sow just how much liquor was being held at this single pub. He whistled in appreciation at the name of a few and then for the sheer amount of types and styles available. 

"Holy shit, that's a lot of booze. I might have to order me another round just to feel like I fully appreciated the work of it."

The man rolled his eyes even as he settled for a water. 

"It is Mister Potter, Mr. Stark. Not _Harry_. I do not know you and I currently am not sure I like you. Please restrain your inability to correctly use my name as we are not even acquaintances and far from friends." 

Tony smirked. 

"Ouch. That almost hurt."

 _Mister Potter_ just rolled his eyes and continued to sip his water.


	4. Months Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! AVENGERS spoiler alert! Proceed with caution!

It was just after they had captured Loki. Literally. 

Sitting with...well, _standing_ around the downed god of mischief and chaos, the Heroes were most surprised to see _Mister Potter_ "pop" into the room. Again, literally. And then the British man cursed violently under his breath. 

"Fury is such an arse!"

\- To paraphrase the diatribe that spewed like blue burning vitriol from the short man's mouth. Of a sorts. It had been quite vicious, anyhow. 

Harry held his wand steadily and readied himself to be either stormed or attacked but was pleasantly surprised when no one moved other than Mr. Stark to raise a brow. 

"Harry, good to see you." 

The brunet grit his teeth. This man would drive a Saint to Drink or Death! 

"Mr. Stark, it is _MISTER POTTER_. I know you have almost died today, but I would think that your mental facilities would still be firing on all cylinders. Clearly I was mistaken. Perhaps you were finally hit hard enough that you forget the little things. Like courtesy. Then again, it could be you were always brain damaged and the doctors were unable to do anything for your mental affliction."

"Oh, I like him." 

The downed man - Loki, if Harry recalled - remarked. Even down and beaten, the bastard was as bitchy and snarky as Severus had once been. Before his death and all that. 

"Yes, well, I need you, Loki. You are Chaos personified, if I am correct." 

The stunned silence was enough to make Harry aware that he might have freaked these beings out.


	5. Vanish and Poof

They were standing in the Atrium of the oddest and most terrifying place Tony had ever been in before. Nothing electronic worked.

 _NOTHING_...

Talk about home field advantage. 

Still, the sight of the normally _normal_ Harry conversing with a short creature about waist high was a bit eye-opening. Having Loki - death bringing, warmongering, intergalactic traveling, fear sowing, megalomanic, adoptive brother of Thor from a mystical place called Asgard - follow him like a docile puppy was unnerving. Okay, that part was down right fucking with his head. But the whole ' __vanish and poof __' and ' __traveling in green fire __' was really just cementing Tony's opinion that life as he knew was about to also vanish into thin air.

And he was kind of frighteningly giddy about the whole prospect.


	6. Paying the Gateway Fee

Okay. There was a giant arch of stone. 

That was whispering. 

And fluttering its fabric door in a breeze no one felt. 

This was officially the creepiest door in existence. The fact that Loki - _Loki, the biggest god-like asshole to exist to his knowledge_ \- was wary of it and even grimacing was more than enough to cement the freaky scariness of the door. Arch. Thing. Whatever. Thor on the other hand was shivering and crushing his lips flat in what was probably an attempt to not freak out and run like a bitch. The sound of creaking leather from his hammer as he tightened his grip had the Aurors around him stepping back hastily. Tony didn't blame them. Those biceps of his were monstrous. 

"Not to be a party-pooper, but what is with the death threatening flutter curtain?" 

When in doubt, be as sarcastic an asshole as you can be. They were lucky that Tony was there to be it.


	7. Obscene, Really

Harry, after many hours of explaining the what and why of the arch and trip respectively, decided it was time for food. 

What better way to feed super humans, gods, and genius yet average Joes than with a feast from House Elves? The highly excitable Binky and Slinky were too happy to help, popping in and out like a dimensional yo-yo of food and magic. And treacle tarts. An enormous amount of them. A seriously hilarious and astronomical amount. It was obscene, really. 

"I believe that's a lot of sweets." 

It had been Steve that spoke, eyes wide as saucers and hand crossing him over and over again. Work of the devils indeed. 

"It is unfortunate that my favorite dessert is a well known secret among House Elves. They are quite fond of me, I'm afraid." 

Harry was smirking, a treacle tart in each hand and a large bite already taken out of one of the pastries. Stark was not far behind, moaning his delight at the taste. Sure there were plenty of actual meal foods on the three table set up buffet style, but he was a flexible guy. Harry chuckled, taking another bite and letting the taste roll on his tongue. This was assurance enough for everyone else, including the humanized Bruce, to dig in.


	8. Poke It With a Stick

They were insane. Tony had no doubt of this now.

They were doing the astralphysical equivalent of poking at the Arch-slash-Doorway-slash-Creeptastic Whispery-Death-Murder Portal like one would at a dead bird with a stick, only they used magic and other metaphysical energies that he really, really wanted to examine. 

He likened their piddling to poking a sleeping bear in the eye just to see if the beast would wake up.


	9. Privacy, Or the Lack Thereof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my. You can really tell that Avengers gave my poor noggin a vast amount of ideas and materials... Should I feel shamed? If so, too bad. XD

Perhaps standing right beside him hadn't been a good idea... In fact, no. No it really had _not_ been a good idea at all.

Loki was giving Tony a scandalized, shocked glare, Thor was wondering aloud how well Pepper was going to take it, Steve was wall-eyed and owl-faced, and Bruce was smirking and rolling his eyes. Well, Pepper was unofficially dating Bruce after Tony had gotten too intoxicated to tell one busty bitch to fuck her own ass and Pepper had walked in on her going down on Tony. That he had been strapped down with copious amounts of fabric and towels didn't make Pepper take it any better. Not kinky sexing, oh no, unwilling sexing but she was too used to his kinks to realize this. 

But back to the issue! 

He had just molested Harry against the stone arch, enough energy in his chest to cause small static shocks not at all painful and then _Harry_ had started putting off biological sparks and the portal thingy was pulsing like a heart beat as they kept on mutually molesting one another. The promising fun had been interrupted when Loki had squeaked like a trod on mouse the moment he had strolled in, cuffs still on and a magic collar controlling and muting his magic. Perhaps it was that Harry had had Tony mostly bare since his shirt was slowly unbuttoning itself or maybe it had been the activation of the bridge, the rainbow bridge to somewhere unknown and therefore dangerous. 

Hawkeye and Black Widow were out somewhere with Fury so they would get some interesting news later. BW was sure to be highly amused. Fury, not so much. Hawkeye? Well, the man was a toss up, really. 

...

BUT HE COULDN'T HELP IT! Really! To have such a dangerous, handsome, sexy, delicious, smart being standing _right there_ and not taking advantage of the opportunity was a stupid thing to do! People say he should curb his impulses but he got no where when he did such a crazy and silly thing! So, while alone, he had kissed the wizard. 

That the wizard was three shades of red and glaring holes into his _soul_...Well, he would apologize. Later. In privacy. Many hours of privacy.


	10. Strange Character

Loki was afraid. And embarrassed, but more afraid. 

Why? Because Tony wanted to thoroughly sexy-times-like-bunnies Harry. Many times. Really. 

"Dude, I know you come from a mildly Archaic society, but doing a another guy in this Realm, while not smiled on, isn't illegal." 

The tall, thin, positively _terrified_ godling was giving the inventor the stink eye. 

"As if that would propose a problem! You do NOT force your attentions on DEATH, you bumbling mortal ape!" 

...That was a new one. 

"Death God? Harry? The tiny, sexy human wizard man that walks around in Good Will slacks and buttons down shirts, wears Armani shoes, and has a watch that tells him more about people and planetary movements than time? _That_ Harry?" 

Loki looked down, eyes squished together and teeth gritted. Wow, he was really trying to get a point across, Tony thought. But he had never thought of Harry as anything other than...well, Harry. But this would give reason to Loki's unusually docile behavior. It had been akin to looking at a strange character out of place in their own play. This made more sense. Even gods and godlings could die in another god wanted them to. 

This, however didn't make Tony want Harry any less. 

"Great heads up and all, but Harry is still a guy and possibly someone who doesn't see much action from anyone if the blush he had says anything. And it does, just FYI. People are probably too scared of him to make a move. Or for him. But, sometimes, even a god needs attention to feel good about themselves. So, yeah, Death god. Big whoop. I am a god of armor, mortal and fragile inside a bit metal shell, but incredibly hardy and ingeniously intelligent even without it. I wear god-hood like a crown, but Harry uses it like a cloak. He _hides_ from himself. So why not get him to open up, huh?" 

Tony smirks as he wanders off in search of the green-eyed man.

"Did you know Death tastes like chocolate and treacle tarts?"


	11. Mute Button

Tony was talking. No, no no! _Stark_ was talking. 

Harry let his head thump on his arch - yes his, don't ask - and ignored the aggravating man. That he was _positive_ was doing this on purpose. Lots of "on purpose". Well, he as going "on purpose" himself into a curse or something if he didn't stop.

Wait. No. He couldn't do that. It was "against the law" or some other such rubbish. 

Stark was still talking. 

WHY? 

Harry felt like crying right about now. Great Merlin! Where was the _mute_ button?


	12. Shutting Up Now

As it happened, Harry was dying for information that Bruce Banner was willing to give - nice fellow, a bit of a strange bloke though when he got all twitchy at the mention of Stark but nice all the same. That he turned into a giant green machine of Chaos was duly interesting because Harry thought is incredibly similar to Animagus transformations. Otherwise, no, he wasn't too worried about the man. And the information he had was far more important that insta-rage issues.

"You have information on To- _Stark_. He has to have a mute button. An embarrassing affair, someone stole his pants in second grade, _something_ as leverage! Is he ticklish? Can I Duct Tape his mouth? The is something you Americans do have, right? I'm not just making that up from previous conversations, am I? Oh MERLIN! I'm going stark raving mad!"

Bruce was chuckling but being kind enough to try and cover his amusement. Harry didn't give a knut about that. 

"INFORMATION? PLEASE? Pretty please with sugar and crumbs on top?" 

Bruce gave up, outright laughing. Harry pouted and tried to glare. This was serious stuff! Very Serious! His sanity depended on the answer!

"Well..."

Bruce paused to ponder, a minor smug smirk placing itself on his lips. 

"Since he needs training out of that really bad habit, how about doing something to distract him? I mean, he is kind of like a puppy." 

"But what?!" 

Harry was actually crying now. Bruce felt like a heel, really he did. He sighed.

"The only thing _I_ have _ever_ seen bring the man low was a kiss. Not even a deep one but a peck on the lips. Surprise that hell out of Tony and make him goggle like some googly-eyed teenager. It can't hurt, right?"

Harry ran up to the occasionally green man and hugged him. 

"I don't care about the obscene amounts of kissing I must do if it will get him to shut up! Thank you, Bruce! Thank you thank you thank you!"

With that, Harry was dashing from the room leaving behind an amused yet worried Bruce. Hopefully this wouldn't backfire spectacularly.


	13. It's a Phase

Harry laid his face against the cold stone of the wall, feeling like blubbering because Mr. Stark-Mortal-Godling or whatever he wished to be called, was yakking in his ear like some broken record. 

Bruce was offering sympathetic glances and shaking his head. 

Everyone else was gone, headed for the hills as fast as their legs would carry them. 

"It's a phase," he murmurs to Harry - Bruce that is. "When he doesn't understand something, he talks until he does." 

Harry groaned pitifully and manages to squeeze out a few tears of frustration.


	14. Usually

It confused and terrified him in equal measures. 

Well, no. No it didn't. 

He was _far_ more confused than terrified. In fact, being afraid of "magic" was wearing off by the nanosecond. That and JARVIS was analyzing the wavelengths of "magic" and adjusting accordingly to the atmospheric changes almost simultaneously with the fluctuations of the energies. Learning to read and respond, really. 

But the most confounding thing was that Harry - gorgeous, mild-mannered, kind, charming, an ass to die for and legs up to _there_ \- was so totally _not_ what he usually had... urges for. Usually. 

So while he was trying to figure that out and come to terms with molecular structural reconstruction called Transfiguration that happened more or less instantaneously, he talked. 

A _LOT_. 

Obsessively. 

Continuously.

Rambling.

ComPLETELY without direct input from the brain. 

Or, well, he did.

Until Mister Potter/Harry/Green Eyes leaned over and...

And, well...

 _Kissed_ him.


	15. Peck

His face was still molting to red whenever he saw Mr. Stark. 

After a week of chatter that _never_ ceased until the man fell over in an exhausted heap, Harry was tearing out his hair and biting his tongue and generally loosing his mind. 

So...

A kiss.

Or...

Well, a _peck_ really. 

So, here he was, twelve hours later and still mildly mortified at his own behavior. And the continued stunned looked of gob-smacked WTF - he had asked Bruce about that, what an interesting American term - that he kept getting from the man whor-er, well, really, what could he call him that wouldn't insult that enormous ego? A...a pimp. Maybe. WHATEVER! What Mr. Stark was was _not_ up for debate! 

So he given that man a peck! BIG DEAL!

That _Loki_ was stunned then smirking before outright cackling was telling...


	16. Lecture and Philosophy

"I don't really understand you, Milord Death."

Harry sighed and rubbed his nose and eyes under his glasses, taking a breath to calm his now racing heart. That would be one for the books. Giving the Master of Death a _heart attack_. Because, apparently, even beaten and bewitched with enchanted chains, Loki was following Harry around. 

And, really, _Milord Death_? Dramatic much? 

"How is that, Loki Odinson?" 

There was a moment of silence that Harry took to say 'You have said something wrong but you scare me too much for me to blab about it' - or something like that - before Loki answered almost hesitantly. 

"You are _Death_ , its _Master_ , and you do not use his power?" 

Harry hummed as he finally turned to look at the Trickster God. He wasn't _evil_ , per say, but gods had very different ideals to general mortals. Thus the 'Ruling of Midgard' bit. Not that he didn't deserve punishment, but even gods make mistakes. 

"Because, what kind of _man_ would I be? I would be a god, no doubt of that, but what part of me would I crush, loose, _destroy_ by my own hands if I were to use that power in such a way?" He sighed, leaning against the wall of the stone arch and crossed his arms. "What I am is a mortal with an immortal job. I can become the job, loose my humanity, my compassion, my ideals and wants and dreams so I can live forever. I would be _alone_ but I could live forever! The option is there. Or. Really now, or I could live my life well, thoroughly, happily as I can, if not then contentedly, and one day die a simple death surrounded by loved ones, family and friends. I'm a fairly simple man when it comes down to it." 

Loki was looking at him fascinated. Harry continued, glad to at least have some sort of understanding audience. 

"I have no blood relatives left," he stated, watching as Loki flinched. "Well, none that would claim me. I had lived with my mother's sister and her family, but growing up despised for being born as I was? Is that really what family is? I wouldn't think so. Family are people that love you anyway, faults, issues, personality defunct...They love you through all of it. I am not being sentimental, I am being truthful. I have heard your story, talked to Thor whether I wanted to or not really," there is a snort from the godling, "and I have to say you have had it FAR better than I have. Sure, you are a different species from the others, but, really, what is the difference? You both _bleed_ do you not? You cry, laugh, smile, hurt..." 

Harry sighed, one hand tracing a rune absently, the stone of millenniums smoothly rough - sand stone carved by wind and water and life into a gently gritty thing - before he closed his eyes. 

"A good man who loved me died protecting me and we didn't even share blood, much less a name. I have a family I look nothing like and everyone knows that my real parents died, threw it in my child's face, hurting my soul as much as my mind and emotions, but I am still loved by them when I am scorned by others and love them deeply for it. Life is not sunshine or a gentle rainstorm or easy things, it is about struggling to find yourself, your place, and carving out of the thick marble of the world _your_ spot. You have to realize, though, that taking someone else's spot is not going to make your place. It will fit like an ill-conceived garment too tight and too big all at once. Like sitting on a throne made of rocks and covered in leather to hide the promised pain. You," he poked the godling, startling the man-boy, "are trying to fit inside a mould that is so ill-suited, I'm surprised you haven't permanently harmed a part of your psyche in the process." 

"I'll have you know-"

"Shush with the ranting. I know! Believe me, I do! It is like wearing a skin, someone's face that is not your own and acting out their parts, but you have forgotten some things, small things, that when thought about, give you away. So you are Frost Giant raised as an Asgardian! Big deal, Odinson. You have things that I cannot even try to replace, even with the power of Death. _Death Dealing_ is a game of who will die to bring back your most beloved people. It could be the mother of an infant with no one else in the world. It could be a terrible person or a god or a child or a beast or a whole planet! But I have to learn what I can do. I cannot run from myself. If I mess up, worlds _die_. I am a godling, or an approximate to it. You are a godling. Not quite a god because you keep loosing your way, your train of dreams, but evil is not something you are. You care for Thor, I can tell, see the adoration and thrill even if you try to ignore and hide that about yourself..."

Harry sighed. 

"But you will have to find your way, a steady string that will widen into a bridge to carry you across the chasm of 'the beginning' and 'the final absolute' you find yourself making. So, no, I don't use my powers like others may be tempted to do. But I will still be someone I can look at in the morning and sleep with every night."


	17. Just Not Fair; AKA: Hunting Unicorns

Finding private time with Harry was like hunting down unicorns without a full virgin party. 

Of course, he wondered which myths were closer to reality: The eating humans that got too close or the lovingly bestowing kindness on virgin maidens part. Wait, no, that was irrelevant! Hopefully.

If it wasn't Thor - what was with the blond god anyway - cornering him in the Atrium of the Ministry, it was Loki standing at his side like a rolly-polly, give-me-belly-rubs puppy that panted at the heels of the human willing to do so. Or Bruce that spoke in low tones in an almost intimate manner with the dark-haired, green-eyed, deliciously handsome-but-almost-pretty man. It was _infuriating_! 

And he wasn't one-hundred percent sure WHY and it was annoying to him and JUST. NOT. FAIR...


	18. Anything But

The Pecks were his weapon. 

His massive amount of books readily available his shield.

And his opponent was one currently surly, decaffeinated, bed-haired genius. 

Harry was trying valiantly to not choke on his morning tea and ignore the intense urge to cackle. He wasn't winning if the deadpanned scowl was anything to go by. Giving up, he set his tea down, folded his arms demurely on the table surface, then place his face in his arms as he dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

Stark could wear anything but bed head.


	19. Where For Art Thou, Loki

If he hadn't suddenly come to a crazy conclusion, he would say that most of the Avengers were trying to keep Stark and he separate. 

Still, he had a crazy conclusion to try. 

"LOKI! Oh, _Lokiiiiiiiiiii_..." Harry was yelling as he ran from the arch room, skipping around people and memos and other things as he moved as quickly as he could by foot. " _LOOOOOKIIIIIII_ , I think I found something and I need you to test it!"

Thor ended up meeting him first, brow raised as the smaller brunet just waved and huffed out a quick, "Hello, Thor. Bye, Thor," before streaking off down another hall. Bruce was next with Natasha and Clint cluttered around him like chicks near a mother hen. Harry raised a hand as he panted, hanging a left to where he felt Fury. Banging into the room to see the human man looking away from an aggressive Loki. Harry grinned damn near evilly, skipping in to grab Loki and tug him away before Fury finished his interrogation. 

"Come, pup, I think I've figured it out!" Harry chirped as he left a fuming Fury behind. Loki just went along with an amused, bemused expression. 

"Yes, Master," Loki blandly retorted. This was going to be good...


	20. A Mad Scientist That Was Neither Mad Nor A Scientist

It was like watching a mad scientist from those old black and whites. 

Only he wasn't mad (eccentric is not a synonym with crazy) nor a scientist (because science is disproved just by his existence). 

Still, it was a thing of beauty. 

Loki was manipulating energies like a violinist - delicate but strong, perfectly timed, and beautiful beyond mortal measure. Harry was beside him taking notes with a quill and parchment that floated as his side and directing sparks of his own energy to the portal. 

He was gorgeous, Tony determined as he stood well away at the door. 

And...

Well, really, he was Tony's unicorn it would seem.


	21. Oh, shut up.

Stark was moving his lips and mouthing words and generally saying things that you can ignore if the person speaking them is not hanging on you, or in your face, over your shoulder, or generally trying to keep your attention. Harry huffed, brows coming further and further down his face. 

Until, finally, he got fed up. 

Grabbing Stark by his lapels and pulling him down, Harry kissed him. Not just kissed him, but _kissed_ him with mind blowing efficiency. And if he turned to having trouble keeping his breath level, it was just because he couldn't breathe while French Kissing the man. Yes. That was it _entirely_.


	22. Scary Thought, That

Fury was not pleased. The little magician kid was giving him hell over Loki and Tony couldn't help but _be_ pleased about the outcome. While not chastised, Fury and the Avengers sans Thor now had a much better knowledge base of gods, godlings, and generally immortal beings. 

So, Loki, in a fit of temper, had tried to be better than his brother not unlike normal teens. Teens with the power of the Cosmos at their finger tips, but kids nonetheless. 

Loki had been embarrassed. Thor a bit for Loki. 

Potter was just trying to stop Fury from trolling the "boys" too much for not being human to begin with. Tony thought that he and Loki could have a lot in common when powers were not factored in. 

How scary was that?


	23. Surprise

With Harry, it was one surprise after another. 

Tony was kind of thrilled. 

Loki was sitting, sweating and sore on the long set of stone steps. Thor, his keeper for now, was putting a worried hand on the godling's shoulder. From one godling to another, it was almost impossible to tire one out. 

Harry was...well, Harry was standing there, hands on hips as he read the readouts and made notes with a Quick Quotes Quill (tm). His hair was windblown, his shirt thoroughly ruffled with three buttons undone, and his slacks were tighter today than usual and made his bum look exceptional. Really. A gallery should be held in honor of that succulent flesh in pictures and images that said "Hi, yes, this is the ass that belongs to Stark and Stark only. Look all you want but never touch under pain of death" or something to that extent. Perhaps have Tony in an image holding onto those delicious mounds. 

...these kind of thoughts were not helping in keeping his hands off...

But back to the surprise!

Harry had been standing with the bridge open, Loki weaving strands of magic like one would thread a loom when suddenly, masked men with sticks - wands, Tony had to consciously think - had burst into the room and threw something. It exploded halfway through the arc and Harry had casually batted it away as he dictated the next strand to Loki. The men had been too stunned to move and had felt their own trap slap them in the face...

And done so easily...

So casually...

Tony had never been so turned on before.


	24. Conundrum

Harry was truly confounded. 

Truly.

Stark was...

Well, he was being odd. Loki was being ODD. And Thor, well, he was being _odder_. 

Was that possible. 

But back to Stark. He was flirting but not, being sweet and helpful and _underfoot_. Horribly so. Completely so. Where was the snark, the flirting, the lashing out in sarcastic retorts? Conspicuously absent, that's what. Even Fury was giving the billionaire strange looks when he wasn't snarling at Harry. 

Even _Fury_! 

And that was the strangest conundrum of it all.


	25. Calling Dibs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, you can tell when classes start back! I drop off the Earth!

He was hot, out of breath, and sweaty. 

Like, good sweaty. 

And having Stark with him the same way was _fantastic_.

That they were running for their lives from some Pigmy people at a cursed temple that held the research material Harry needed was blase to the shorter brunet. Hermione on his other side, however, was less than thrilled.

"HARRY -pant- JAMES -pant- POTTER! Your arse - wheeze- is MINE!"

Harry panted out a laugh-

"But I called DIBS!"

-only to choke when Stark remarked on prior claim that Harry was fairly one hundred percent POSITIVE he was unaware of.


	26. Caught Red Bellied

He was breathing heavily again. A too often occurrence, really. 

That Stark was kneeling before him, his Good Will shirt up around his armpits, pants unbuttoned and sagging without their belt, and having said Billionaire's lips traveling all along his belly and chest...

Oh _Merlin_...

His lips were already swollen and reddened and his neck sucked and nipped and tasted...

But not to last, it would seem.

Hermione along with Bruce stumbled over them. 

Needless to say, everyone but one was horribly mortified.


	27. It's Your Own Damned Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should be doing my Art History I paper...
> 
> You see how well that was working.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

 

The brunet in question was unsure of his offence but was more than aware that Stark was going to expound on each one. Possibly extensively. The only slightly taller man - _he wore lifts in his shoes! It was a priceless discovery_ \- came thundering in, waving a limp looking red glove. Harry felt his brows draw down into a full frustrated frown until he noticed that the glove was, in fact, part of the suit and specifically the left gauntlet.

 

Oh...

 

Found that, had he? His brow went up but in no way diminished his aggrivated look.

 

"Who says that I have done anything, Stark?"

 

The man colored, blustering before yelling angrily and gesturing wildly that this was _his baby_ and to _jump head first into the Thames_ for doing something so vile. Harry rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth before grabbing the ever present suit lapels, kissed Stark senseless, and then stomped from the room telling them man to grow up and learn what was a magical toy replica verses the real thing.

Stark kind of stood there with a dazed look about him and his jaw hanging. Clint had pictures. 

As did Bruce.


	28. Made Your Bed, Now Lay In It

Hermione was, understandably, upset with everyone.

 

"You are interrupting my research! OUT!"

 

Harry was sure that this was _not_ his fault this time. Stark sitting on the ceiling because he activated the safety measures to her library was clue enough. So why did he and Bruce have to leave?

 

"But, Moine, Bruce and I did nothing."

 

He smiled winningly enough that she wilted slightly before rallying and going Stern and Severe. When she pointed imperiously, he left this time without complaint. Bruce, wise man, followed docilely. Stark, on the other hand, opened his mouth.

 

"Ooo, you have them well trained already! I gotta do that too."

 

The high pitched screech was enough to keep Harry from going back to hex the ass. He was smarter than that.


	29. Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of...Fluff?

Sometimes, and really, _only_ sometimes things went the way there were supposed to. 

Like, Harry finding out what was on the other side of the portal. 

But, usually, things did not go as they were supposed to. 

Like, right now. 

Anthony Stark was about to become compost and Harry, while upset, was willing to let it happen. Because, really? Was he _trying_ to die in the _most_ improbable way? 

And how do you piss off things that make tree huggers look like rotation newbies with only ten seconds into the "Hello, my name is:" part on the conversation? 

"HARRY! I'm being dog-piled by balls of fluff and cuteness! HEEE _EEEELP_!"

Harry just...he just sighed.


	30. I Will Use My Words, Don't Tempt Me

Hermione, dear, sweet, intelligent, and even stoic woman, was still giggling. Harry was too, as a matter of fact.

Tony was _not_ amused. "They slobbered on me." He grimaced as he felt his hair, solidified by whatever was in their saliva - or whatever they spit out. "And, most pointedly, in my _hair_. Which is giving Albert Einstein's ghost a high-grade fit over the insanity of it. I have never had hair this bad, not even during or after 'fighting to the death' and please note the air quotes on that one. I have had grease, axle and otherwise, oil, dirt, mud, clay, sand, and solidified foam in it. I have spent days cleaning said hair of any one of those things and not had any problem after the first 15 hours of soaking. I have spent over 18 hours trying to remove this. It is not coming out and I am unhappy. You," he pointed at Harry, "are going to fix it." 

The black-haired man raised a brow. Hermione covered her mouth, snorting into her hands as she tried to control herself. It did not appear to work too well. 

"And why would I do that?"

Tony smiled like a shark. "Because if you do _not_ I will talk to you for hours and _hours_ and **_hours_**. I will talk so much, you will fall asleep to my dulcet tones and awaken to them in equal measure. I will talk so much, people will avoid you to avoid _me_. I will be talking about everything, including _that_. And I know about the fine of using magic on a non-magical. I will use that knowledge against you. I will ruin you. Slowly. Painfully. With only my voice. And I will do it, too."

Harry suddenly started laughing, coming over to pat Stark on the head. For some reason, it became a lot...cooler of a sudden. "Alright, alright. Go to Spell Correctional Medical. They'll take care of that. Promise." 

Hermione was wallowing on the wall, hand over her eyes and mouth as she tried to not laugh and shriek. It wasn't working. Harry, the kind brat, hefted her over his shoulder, taking her mostly immobile form from the room, whistling. Tony narrowed his eyes. Something was going on here.

Sighing in frustration, he lifted his hand to run through his hair. He grimaced as he remembered the saliva. Then his hand hit...skin?

Skin?

_Skin?!_

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! YOU ARE DEAD!"

He was fucking _bald_!


	31. It's All in the Flair of the Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or when things happen that shouldn't. Ever.

It was a meeting that would scar people for life. While Tony Stark, billionaire and playboy and technological wunderkind and philanthropist of genius proportions, met Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Conquer and one of the most pivotal and influential men of Magic world wide with a moral compass always on North and never South, it was mind boggling they were even able to be in the same room as each other and not have discussions ranging into shouting matches about morals and ethics and general magic verses technology. Tony Stark meeting Harry's old schoolmate nemesis Draco Malfoy, playboy and snotty and rich and his compass never even comes close to North on most business deals, that ferret bastard, it was a match made in some fourth ring of hell sprinkled lightly with one-up-man-ship and heavily with sarcasm and debilitating witticisms covered in a fluffy puff of Harry-buggering-Potter-is-a-pain-in-my-arse-but-I-don't-wish-him-dead-yet. It was horrifying. Beautifully so.

Especially when they started going on and on and on about _hair_.

"Blimey! You mean to tell me that Potter shaved your head with a _spell_? Mister Laces-so-straight-he-can't-breathe-for-the-moral-uprightness Potter?"

Stark gave a mournful moue. "He did. Decided to be a dick. Wouldn't help me fix the problem, and then made it worse! _My beautiful hair!_ "

And when they were both called back, both bald and commiserating over lost follicles and beautiful, perfect, wonder hair and the many ways it made a man a _man_ , there would be  gossip for months about the event - Draco talking to and enjoying the prescence of a Muggle.

Three days later, it was going to get worse.


	32. Business Needs Be Conducted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then it gets worse for all involved...Or, well, for Fury anyway.

Draco, coming to his business date with Stark at the ministry, was not impressed with the replacement Potter found for Mad-eye. Or, he was, but he didn't want to be. The large man with dark skin was, frankly, more terrifying than the Death Eaters at the height of their villainy right then barring him from the handsome Muggle man Stark. Then there was the large blond dressed as a proper god, war hammer in his belt and arms crossed over the vast expanse of chest. His eyes were frost blue, frown on a face full of laugh lines. Well, Draco apparently had stepped into a bees nest. 

"I am here to discuss business with Tony Stark," he uttered in his imperious, I-am-holier-than-thou tone reserved for just these occasions. And when dealing with Potter. 

"I am sorry to...derail your meeting, but I cannot allow that," The Mad-eye Muggle version growled in a smooth yet booming voice not unlike distant thunder. Draco knew for a fact that the statement was a bold faced lie. The unsaid threat was not. 

"Hey! Draco! You're late! By like ten minutes, even. I thought Malfoys were never late." 

Anthony Stark strolled up to the blond, hair styled and mouth wide in a smile. Behind him trailed Harry and Loki, the two dark-haired men rolling their eyes at the billionaire. "Of course he is late, Stark. Fury is your current keeper with how demanding and horrifying you are. At current, it is his job." Harry brushed past Tony, rubbing along his side a little more than necessary, staking his claim before the blond interloper. "Scaring off all your handlers will land you with the boss eventually. Even I know that." He finally directed his full attention to the Malfoy scion. "Hello, Malfoy. Please make sure that Stark is returned in as full health as he left. Better, if you can manage." 

Loki smirked at the challenge laid down as did Thor though Fury seemed to actually puff up, like he was getting ready to snarl. Harry looked back at the man, raising his brow. "It is alright with this one. He is at the very least civilized and business minded." 

Fury let out a breath. When the two had gone off, Tony gibbering in Business that Malfoy seemed to understand, Fury had Harry spun around, the green-eyed man going with the motion. "Now tell me why I let that loose canon go off with an unknown." 

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know that particular menace. He is a safe risk. Think of it like this, we let Stark talk business with a wealthy Magical family that can help SHIELD with potions, and we can keep an eye on each other." 

Fury growled as Harry walked on. "And think, Fury, you have Nordic gods on your side of the conflict. Once the people learn about gods of ancient nature being involved, you'll have the magical communities in the bag." 

The man sighed as Potter waltzed his sorry British ass on down the hall. Why did this feel like more headaches for him?


	33. Collaborating the Doom of Man Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, Tony Stark and Malfoy actually do talk about business and no one gets it. Especially Malfoy.

Malfoy was impressed with the muggle man having stood up and even help defeat an Ancient God of Lore. Not only that, but Loki, the Trickster God of Mischief. It was surreal, really. And _THEN_ team up with the godling's brother? Very impressive indeed. 

  
Business with this man was going to be a glorious rub in the faces of the Wizarding World fools. 

  
"So, let me get this down pat: I help get your potions out to the populace under my banner of protection, with Dr. Bruce Banner as my liaision of course, and you are able to equip your home and world in general with the best security I can manufactor to withstand magical pulses? I think we almost have a deal." 

  
Unfortunately, the man was business hungry. 

  
"And what, Mr. Stark, is it that is missing?" 

Tony smirked at him. Oh, this was not going to be fun for him. "You are going to recruit and teach said Dr. Bruce Banner about the potions, how to make them, and where to harvest the ingredients. Think of it as an insurance policy that you get to cash in on. The patents are _yours_ , but he can do all the work." 

And wasn't that just startling. In retrospect, he probably should have seen that coming. Still, he was intrigued. "And what makes you so sure he can learn to do this? He has no magic, correct?" 

And here Tony smiled. "As a matter of fact, he might." 


	34. Which Witch Was Wenched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ... um, well, it's possible, I guess. Especially now. Crossovers, ya know. They do things.

Tony stood with Harry, Malfoy, and Bruce in front of a very, very, _very_ large parchment sheet, the doctor holding a potion in hand with just one drop of blood. Outside of being _this side_ of legal, Bruce was kind of eager to find out if Tony's hypothesis was true. 

  
Harry, hands in his pockets, was a witness as was Tony. Malfoy was the potioneer of this venture. It seemed well covered and legitimate. Barely. Which, he figured, he should be used to by now. 

"So I just pour the potion on the paper?" 

Malfoy and Harry nodded, the blond bland and Harry grinning hopefully at his friend. Which, yeah, they were now. "Just so you know, if this is eating up your time with the Bifrost Bridge, shouldn't someone else..." 

Harry waved it off, winking. "I left Loki working on it. He's such a diligent student that I believe him safe." 

Well.

If that wasn't troubling. 

Sighing, he dropped the potion on the parchment, hurrying so that Loki could be watched by someone other than SHIELD. Because, really, bang up job on the Helicarrier. And Harry had some control over Loki. Somehow. He was not going to screw with the cosmos by asking how. He was intelligent enough to keep that to himself and...hellooooooo, that is _new_. 

"Well, your mother was a witch," Harry commented amused, staring at the many blinking lights that signified magical lines. "Realted to the Zambinis, too. By fourth cousins. You, Bruce, are a squib. As in, this side of being a wizard kind of squib. Congratulations." 

  
Bruce was a little dumfounded. 


	35. Loki Looks Longingly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just had an IDEA, OH MY GOSH, beware! ^^

Harry sat on the stairs to the room, watching Loki stare longingly into the veil, bound hands in his lap and disheveled hair coming loose in long curls as whatever he used on his hair slowly worked itself out. Deep dark bags under pale eyes announced the amount of sleep the young godling was getting - as in, very little - and his complexion was becoming ever more pallid and wane. 

The soft sound of leather boots stepping gently had him looking up at the blond brother, Thor looking at his brother with his heart and soul and a longing so deep as to be something painful. These two needed time out of the lime light, away from expectations, and probably a good long soak in hot water to just ... not think. 

Harry stood up, snapping his fingers and bringing blue and green eyes to his person. 

"We're going on a trip. Don't say anything, we all need a break from this portal," he announced, looking at Loki, raising a brow. The young god nodded slightly, rocking to his feet and coming to stand by the shortest man in the room. Thor smiled a little, his good cheer dampened. Harry patted his shoulder as he led the way from the room, walking at a steady clip to the front desk. No need to cause an incident when a few steps would keep the government informed. Still, if was up lifts and waiting in lines before they got there, the small brunet noticing Tony coming in through the elevator from the shop a block over. 

"Tony! Here, please," he called, the genius coming over as a slow lope. Not giving him a chance to do anything but open his mouth - promptly covered by Harry's hand - he turned to the teller, smiling. "Four to Apperate. Japan, Earth." 

The poor woman looked a little flustered. "You can't just go to Japan! You don't have sutras or a portkey!" 

Harry laughed. "We'll be fine. I just thought it would be nice to let them know we're on our way instead of leaving without notice." 

She spluttered, flailing as Harry took the others along to a point marked for this sort of transport, grabbed Loki and Tony and Thor and turned on the spot. The four vanished with a loud crack, one that made most flinch. The woman at the desk was slack-jawed, hands gripping the com-skull that was connected to her superiors office. He was going to have a fit! It took a moment for that to sink in properly before her eyes lit up. She grinned.


	36. A Bevy of Bathing Beauties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I could not resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "House of the Blue Moon" is a story on www.Fanfiction.net and a fantastic read. 
> 
> Also, cameos. Lots of them.

The white haired male stared at him, at his companions, then back to him, raising a brow. "What an ... auspicious occasion."

Ah, highborn, ruling class bred mockery. It was adorable. And impeccably polite. "Oh hush, you," Harry chirped, waving the three nauseous, slightly green, and very wary group over. While it was true that these three didn't get on like a house on fire, they were quick to band together when shenanigans were being done to them. "May I introduce: Stark Tony, Iron Man, son of _the_ Stark and sitting in ruling office of his empire. Odinson Thor, son of Odin and Laufeyson-Odinson Loki, adopted son of Odin the Allfather and ruler of Asgard." 

The other brow joined its twin. Harry smiled winningly. "We would like a three day, two night pass, if you would." 

Silence. 

"I always have gold, you coniving old coot. Don't I always pay promptly?" 

"Hn." 

"Sess-chan." 

"Hn." 

"Sesshy-kun?" 

"..." 

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" 

"Twenty a piece, Potter-san." 

Long thin fingers collected the bag of clinking metals, nails like blades on his hands. "If that will be all?" 

Harry chuckled as he led his group through the doors into one of the last Youkai ran bathhouses, inhaling the scent of spices and herbs and minerals, grinning widely. He turned to the wide-eyed stares of his companions. "Welcome to the House of the Blue Moon." 


	37. How Tony Did It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, why he thought Bruce of all people was magical. Also, magical Asian baths. Run by Demons. And other things.

"SO," Harry chirped as he wrapped a towel around his slim hips, not noticing the hungry, appreciative, and wondering looks from the Demons, Tony, and the godlings respectively as he carelessly forgot about his nudity, "this trip is to relax, calm down, and get out from under the wandering eye of the Ministry and Fury. Which includes SHIELD."

Tony closed his mouth with a grimace. "Stop answering before I ask, _Mr. Potter_ ," he mocked with a roll of his eyes. "But those bastards did microship my drunk ass, I will inform you, Mister-Know-It-All, and I don't get a moment's fucking peace." 

The shortest of the four snorted, sliding back the Shoji screen to reveal what had to be an illusion of the most opulent, decandent, growing and living and thriving pool, one Tony noted was marked on the suddenly there wooden token, the one Harry was holding that he hadn't been ten seconds ago. This...THIS was why magic made him so antsy, even if he now knew the basic mechanics of it. He felt his lips tip down as he stepped into the enclosed area, the shoji sliding back into place on its own, he assumed until he caught the slight image out of the corner of his eye of a giant frog in a kimono, the silk a bright red that vanished as soon as he turned to look full on. Well. Fuck him upside-down and on a wooden chair. 

Taking a breath, he stepped along the edge, the stone magically made, it had to be, no one could make such a perfect bowl out of solid rock otherwise. Small wide steps led into the shallow end, only as high as his knees. Now he kind of got _why_ bathing away the dirt before hand would be a thing, only Harry had magicked them all squeaky clean. As in, literally. It was weird. But cleaning this fish bowl was a fearful thing to imagine. Especially with no real drain, just a continued influx of water that gently streamed away, possibly taking months to entirely filter through the whole pool. 

The tiny eccentric wizard sighed as he plopped tiredly on a low stone bench along one of the edges, Loki and Thor pulling off a little to deep one and sliding a margin more gracefully into seats. Tony took a place beside Harry, sprawling out and letting his arms flop an the rounded pool edge. 

There was a long silence before Tony couldn't take it. "So...?" 

"I," he drawled softly with a mild brogue that had to have been Scottish in nature, a picked up accent, not native to his upbringing but introduced early enough on it was heard, "want to know how you came to the conclusion that Bruce Banner was not completely Non-Magical." 

There was another long silence, the Billionaire finally sighing. "It was actually seeing Hulk, his mass and comparing it to Bruce, only, ya know, Bruce is  _tiny_ in the scheme of things." His fingers waved as if he were over one of his computer holos, eyes closed and head back. "I mean, I know mutations are possible, _the fucking Wolverine name Logan come to mind_ , but not to that extreme. You have to  _have_ the mass before you can  _expand_ that much without being paper thin." 

Loki opened his mouth, hesitated, then nodded. "You would be correct." 

Wiggling the most mundane of all wizarding toes, the human( ~~ish~~ ) man nodded along. "There is that point. But what set you up for that? I mean," he too grasped at air, as if a book was in reach even above his head, "how did you  _come_ to this conclusion?" 

"Ms. Granger, actually," he mumbled, flushing in rememberance of the vivascious and evil woman had set the ground rules, but then helped him understand the hows and whys and why-nots. "And Transfiguration and Animagi. That crazy women is absolutely so far ahead of her time, she might as we be walking the moon." 

Harry nodded along, agreeing. Then they settled fully, sighs echoing, chatter coming and going, touching on the Br-Frost Bridge and leaving just as quickly, family, the lack there of, significant others past and present, and a multitude of blather that was more a giant cathartic word vomit than sensibility. 

Also. Sake, the drink that floated to them from Frog-In-Red-But-Not-Seen. Maybe if he could get room service like this, he could get used to the half-there staff. It was worth a shot, and six bottles. 


	38. Not Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Title Reads, and all that.

Odin was... _displeased_ didn't cover it, but it was the closest and least abrasive word he found that could cover the whole of it. His loving, darling,  _furious_ wife was Not Happy. Thus, in accordance to the laws of something unnamed but universal, most if not all of Asgard was Not Happy right along with her. 

"You thrust one of my Sons to Midgard and I allowed it, thinking it was good for him,  _and it was_ , but then you went and  _left you other son neglected_ and now!" She threw up her hands, pacing their private, warded, and most importantly Silenced chamber. She really was glorious in her temper, eyes flashing, breasts heaving, face flushed and energy to spare. It was unfortunate that it would be  _highly_ unlikely that he would get to appreciate these things in full with her in such a foul mood. "One refuses to come home because he is afraid to trust you and the other one  _doesn't trust you at all_ and you are expecting me to do nothing? I am their  _mother_ , dear husband, and I am-" 

Here, she broke off into inarticulate rage, slamming her fist into Odin's chest and choking on her emotions. They were her  _sons_ , her children and while she refused to coddle them overtly, this moment called for her touch, her interference if she was to be with her sons at all. Damn her hot-headed men and their rivalry. How she loved them anyway. 

Odin sighed, cradling her face in war-torn palms that were textured rough on the unfathomably smooth flesh under his hands. Heimdall would be brought to the throne tomorrow's day break. He could not stand to see his stunning and vibrant love so broken. 

It was time to make their way to Midgard. 

 


	39. Please Wait While I Re-Direct Your Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INSPIRATION HAS FINALLY STRUCK, DEAR BUTTERED TOAST, IT HAS STRUCK!

Hermione snorted at the idea of Harry of all people being available when he was "needed" for anything other than a life or death situation.

"Director Fury, I regret to inform you that Harry is, actually, unavailable. In fact, there are a number of places he could be that I can't set foot in or on or even around" the brunette woman said pleasantly with a biting edge that warned of impending pain or humiliation. "I am sorry he removed assets and a war time criminal from your care, but there are few who are as powerful or defensible as he."

The large bald man was not taking this well, Bruce sitting off to the side and rolling his eyes where Hermione could see as Fury gathered himself for a vicious return of words. He didn't get far when Harry along with Stark, Thor, and Loki _popped_ into the room looking clean and relaxed. Harry tipped an imaginary hat to Fury before walking over to Bruce, smiling as if nothing was wrong. 

Fury was shaking in ... well, fury? Rage? Hands at his side, mouth a thin line, single eye narrowed and brows drawn down. It was time he tangoed with this boy. Stealing his men and prisoner was not something that would continue. And gathering his snarling loathing of the situation in general, he stalked over to his target: one Harry James Potter. 


End file.
